New Jersey Romance Writer’s annual “Put Your Heart in a Book” Conference is a little over a month away! To help share our excitement, we’ll shine the spotlight on one of our Golden Leaf finalists each day leading up to the conference.
The Golden Leaf is awarded annually for excellence in romance fiction by authors who are NJRW members or in Romance Writers of America (RWA) Region One. Winners will be announced during the NJRW Put Your Heart in a Book Conference award ceremony on October 16, 2015.
Spotlight on Novella: “Christmas Rose,” by Christine Bush (Self-published)
A giant television screen dominated the space on a table at one side of the room. Huge. And bigger than life size, she saw a face on the screen. A strikingly handsome dark haired man who looked as big as a giant in a fairy tale was looking at her. He was talking to her as if he were right in the room.
“Hello, Ms. Robinson,” said the giant, gorgeous, talking head.
Rosie jumped. She turned and looked at Mary Featherstone, who was now standing behind her, shrinking back toward the door.
“He can see me?” She asked in a puzzled voice.
Mary nodded. “It’s called Skype. You can see and talk to each other. Just like if he was here.”
Not hardly, Rosie thought, staring at the big face. It was more like looking at Oz, the great and powerful.
“Ms. Robinson,” said the giant man again. There was a touch of impatience in his voice.
“Mr. Cameron?” Rosie said, staring at him, brow furrowed. “Can you hear me?” She raised her voice, as if shouting across a canyon.
“Oh for God’s sake,” said the man, obviously aggravated now. “I’m right here and yes, I can hear you. And see you. It’s just Skype.” He took a big breath, and she could see his attempt at calming himself down.
Even with the head shot limitation, she could see he wore a suit, something gorgeously dark grey. White starched shirt. Red tie with a pattern of little dark diamond shapes. She could see every detail, the picture was so clear. His face was clean shaven, freshly so. Great grooming. Like a Brooks Brothers model. Rosie was amazed at the details she could see. This mega pixel screen would have shown even an errant nose hair. Not that he had one.
She stared. Holy smokes, he was a good looker. Even with the tense look around his eyes, he had a face that would stop traffic. In a good way. Close cropped dark hair. How tall was he? She pushed the wonder away, well aware she was making a fool of herself.
What did it matter what the big head looked like? He was her employer, and she was probably standing here awaiting the ritual firing that past companions had received. His Uncle Howard would not even open the door to meet her. A failure before she even began. Mentally, she began planning her trip back toward town and the motel she had recently left. Back to another bout as a chambermaid. She had a child to feed.
(Work is copyright of the author; may not be reused without permission.)
Good luck to Christine and all our Golden Leaf finalists!
It’s not too late to register for the conference. Visit our website for more information.